


Whims

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Sex, Exhibitionism, M/M, Sex Work, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-02 08:05:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18807100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Noctis pays someone to screw Ignis.





	Whims

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Maybe a sequel to [Gifting](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18784552)?
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

When he’s finished blow-drying his hair, he brushes it down the way he used to style it, because he doubts the usual upswept look will last through the evening’s events. Even though his carefully combed bangs will likely be ruined too, he arranges them thoughtfully, putting every effort into his appearance. When he’s finished that, he checks his face, fully prepared to apply concealer where necessary. He doesn’t usually wear makeup, but he’s not opposed to the idea when he wants that extra edge. He winds up dusting on some subtle highlights and applying just the faintest bit of liner to his eyes. After that, all that’s left is to smooth out his crisp dress pants and button-up purple coeurl-pattern shirt. The last touch is his usual necklace: a thin, silver chain with a tiny skull pendant that Noctis gifted to him back in high school when gothic jewelry was all the rage.

Once his glasses are back on, Ignis steps away from the counter, double-checking his reflection. It’s as perfect as he thinks he can get it. With a hitch of breath and a twinge of anticipation, he finally exits the washroom. The hushed voices in the living room fall silent at the creak of the door, and Ignis wanders out to face them.

Noctis and Prompto are sitting on the couch, Noctis casually draped across the dark cushions and Prompto rigid with obvious nerves. He’s got his camera in his lap, his fingers on the dials, and that little extra element makes Ignis’ pulse raise that tiny bit faster. There’s going to be evidence left behind. Ignis trusts Prompto completely, and he trusts Noctis even more, but the camera still affects him. 

Prompto looks back at Ignis and tries to talk, but no words come out, and he winds up just turning helplessly back to Noctis. Noctis’ eyes bore holes into Ignis, more intense than they’ve ever been. Ignis deliberately comes closer, right to the edge of the coffee table, and stands there for Noctis’ perusal. He feels like an animal presenting itself to a potential mate. He asks in as steady a voice as he can manage, “Is this acceptable?”

Noctis’ gaze lingers on his face a little longer, then slowly begins roaming down his body. Ignis’ chin rises a fraction of a centimeter, his posturing tightening. Noctis takes his sweet time eyeing up every little detail, and Ignis can see the _desire_ brewing in them. Even before Noctis answers, Ignis knows he’s earned his prince’s approval. When Noctis’ eyes reach Ignis’ ankles, they snake back up to Ignis’ exposed collarbone, and Noctis nods.

Ignis’ chest tightens. He can’t believe they’re going to do this. He did say he would happily, eagerly give Noctis anything within his power. But he hadn’t expected this particular request. He had, perhaps, expected Noctis to request a simple kiss. Not: _“I want to pay someone to fuck you.”_ The way Noctis had said it too, not demanding but so sure, had run shivers up Ignis’ spine. His eyes stay on Noctis until the doorbell rings.

Ignis goes to answer the door like an indentured servant. He knows that isn’t the point of what Noctis asked, but a small, sick part of him still enjoys the idea of being passed around by his prince. He serves Noctis without having to be asked, drawing the lock aside and swinging the door open.

It could only have been one person. Gladiolus stands on the other side, dressed down in loose jeans and a tank top stretched tight across his thick muscles. He clearly didn’t make any effort to dress up, but then, he’s not meant to be the one on display, and he looks good enough as is. For once, Ignis indulges himself, allowing his gaze to skim the rippling abs almost fully exposed to him. Noctis had said to choose someone that _turned him on_ , and since Noctis himself wasn’t an option, this was the next best thing. It wasn’t the first time Ignis considered Gladiolus’ body, but it was the first time he ever admitted it. He had a fair pretense: they can’t trust outsiders anyway. Gladiolus will keep their secrets, and Gladiolus will be able to fuck Ignis exactly as hard as their prince would like.

With a short, “Hello,” Ignis steps aside, allowing Gladiolus into the familiar apartment. Gladiolus comes in, eyeing up Ignis as he goes, and he even whistles as he kicks out of his shoes. Ignis tries to keep a blush off his cheeks. He’d hoped Gladiolus would enjoy himself, but he’d underestimated just how much. Gladiolus even reaches out, as though to grab Ignis by the hips and pull him in for a more intimate greeting, but Ignis steps out of reach. The professional Noctis would’ve preferred to hire wouldn’t treat Ignis as a friend, so Ignis won’t allow Gladiolus to either.

Gladiolus doesn’t react to the evasion but does mutter, “So this is really happening...”

“You’re under no obligation to follow through,” Ignis reminds him. 

Gladiolus’ lips twitch into a sly grin that says it all. He moves around Ignis, strolling out into Noctis’ apartment, where the other two greet him with subdued waves. Ignis follows. Noctis wastes no time, getting up and asking, “Gladio, can you bring two chairs to the bedroom?” He’s already moving down the hall, Prompto in tow, as Gladiolus processes.

“Blondie’s here too, huh?”

Prompto bites his bottom lip, ducking his head as he passes the two older men. He seems the jitteriest but also in no hurry to leave. Noctis answers for him, “He’s taking pictures for me. There won’t be any flash though, and Prom says his camera’s pretty quiet, so it shouldn’t disturb you.”

Gladiolus snorts, “Fine by me,” and fetches two chairs from the dining room table. Ignis considers offering to help before deciding to remain quiet and simply do as he’s told. He follows the other three into Noctis’ bedroom, where Gladiolus sets down the chairs, and Noctis drags them to the side of the bed, close enough to see it all without being in danger of catching stray limbs. Noctis takes his seat first, then Prompto gingerly joins him. 

Ignis walks towards the foot of the bed, hovering there. Gladiolus asks him, “Where do we start?”

Ignis automatically turns to Noctis. Noctis tells them, “I’m not directing, just watching. If I could’ve found a professional sex worker we could trust to do it, I would’ve preferred that, but since Specs picked you...” Ignis looks away, blushing hotly. He’s sure he’ll get an earful later, now that Gladiolus knows he was Ignis’ choice. He can see Gladiolus’ smirk in the corner of his eye. Noctis sharply orders, “Ignis, look at me.”

Ignis obeys. Noctis locks their gaze and holds it, though his words are clearly directed at Gladiolus. “I’m paying another man to fuck him. That’s all this is. Paid sex. I don’t want you enjoying Ignis too personally. Don’t try to make this romantic, don’t try to forge a connection with him, just fuck him while I watch.”

Gladiolus doesn’t protest. Ignis doesn’t either. He only looks away when Noctis nods back towards Gladiolus, as though signaling his release. Gladiolus waits until he has Ignis’ full attention.

Then he muses, “Normally, I’d make my partner strip nice and slow. But since this is for his highness’ amusement instead of mine, and I can’t be too personal...” Gladiolus steps forward, and the next thing Ignis knows, his shirt’s being ripped open. He has to bite the inside of his lip to hold back his indignant grunt as Gladiolus jerks the fabric apart so recklessly that it’s a wonder the button’s don’t go flying. He does them all, then yanks the remnants away, catching Ignis’ arms in the process and nearly making him topple over. He regains his balance just in time to suffer Gladiolus clawing at his pants in a similar fashion. Ignis has to rest a hand on Gladiolus’ shoulder just to brace himself as Gladiolus sweeps down his body, pulling pants and underwear down at once. 

Ignis is made to step out of the pile of his clothes. All at once, he’s naked. His necklace remains, but Gladiolus barely seems to notice that. He smirks hungrily at Ignis’ body, one hand pressed against his hip and smoothing over his stomach. Then Gladiolus paces around Ignis, taking it all in. Ignis does his very best to quell the embarrassment over standing nude before all three of his closest friends. He can hear the quiet click of Prompto’s camera. He risks a glance at Noctis, who’s staring unabashedly at Ignis’ flaccid dick. 

Gladiolus shoves him in the middle of his back. He’s herded towards the bed and commanded, “Lie down, face down, ass up.” Ignis waits for two brief seconds, just in case Noctis should demand otherwise, but Noctis says nothing, so Ignis climbs onto the mattress and lowers himself onto the plush blankets.

He turns his cheek to the pillow, facing Noctis. Noctis already looks turned on. His soft lips are in a light frown, his brow furrowed in concentration, gaze fierce and steady. It centers Ignis. He barely sees Prompto snapping pictures off to the side and barely thinks of Gladiolus climbing over him.

Then his ass is slapped, and he grunts, acutely reminded of the others. He hears a packet tear open but doesn’t look back. For once, he doesn’t have to do anything. He just has to lie back and be a pliant doll: a toy for his beloved prince to play with and toss aside. The concept is bizarrely thrilling. When his eyes fall closed, he can’t help thinking about _Noctis_ climbing onto the bed. They’re so _close_ , but they’ve never so much as kissed, and Ignis has no idea how it feels to be lying naked under Noctis. But that’s not his place, and he opens his eyes again. 

Gladiolus’ meaty hands pry his ass cheeks open. Ignis hisses and lets his fingers curl into the blankets. He should’ve thought to strip the bed down properly—the sheets are easier to wash than the thick duvet overtop. But it’s too late now. He’s already in full-obedience mode. He’ll chide the others for not thinking of it later. 

One of Gladiolus’ fingers rubs along his crack, slick with lubrication. Ignis tells himself that it’ll be alright, that Gladiolus knows what he’s doing. They’ve never talked about this sort of thing before. Maybe they were both afraid to cross that line. But Gladiolus is a huge, hulking hunk of a man, and he’s got to have plenty of experience. Ignis has had a few anonymous one-night affairs, and he’s twice as busy with half Gladiolus’ sex appeal. Surely Gladiolus has fucked dozens of tall, thin men that look just like Ignis. 

Gladiolus’ finger reaches his asshole and presses into it, not quite breeching, just poking and prodding, getting the area used to stimulation. Ignis winces and wills himself not to clamp up now. He knows Noctis is watching every single reaction that he has. He forces himself to breathe evenly as Gladiolus rubs his puckered entrance over and over, teasing it several times before finally popping inside.

The intrusion catches Ignis’ breath. He tells himself it’s nothing. He tries to widen his channel for Gladiolus, but Gladiolus doesn’t seem to need any help. He pistons into Ignis with swiftly growing confidence, until he’s sliding in so deep that Ignis can feel the knuckles brushing over his entrance. Gladiolus keeps rhythmically pumping into him, then pulls out to add a second finger.

Ignis doesn’t know what he expected. Noctis asked for it to be impersonal, and it is: Gladiolus fingers him rough and hard, driving in and out with little grace. It feels distinctly _odd_ , but then, being fingered usually does for him. Gladiolus breaks the silence by muttering through the hint of a chuckle, “You’re looser than I thought you’d be, Iggy. You opening up for me? Too bad you can’t get wet back here too...” 

Ignis prepared himself a bit in the shower beforehand, because he wasn’t quite sure how gentle Gladiolus would be. Apparently, not very much. Noctis cuts in, “Don’t call him that. He doesn’t have a name to you.”

Gladiolus grunts, “Sure.” Ignis tries not to read into it. Noctis has never gotten jealous over someone else calling him a nickname before. But this is all new territory. 

In a soft voice, Noctis adds, “Ignis, enjoy yourself.”

Ignis murmurs, “Yes, your highness.” He lets his eyes close, and he tries to focus in on just the sensation, maybe not the roughness but the thickness of Gladiolus’ fingers prying and rubbing at his inner walls. It makes it easier. Gladiolus has three in, and he drags them all along the brim when he finally pulls out, leaving Ignis wide and open.

He can hear something crinkling, ripping, and thinks Gladiolus must be putting on a condom. He doesn’t have one himself. He’s half hoping to make a mess that Noctis can lie in after.

He forces his eyes open and regains focus. He’s just in time; Gladiolus grabs his side and wrenches him over. Ignis rolls onto his back. Gladiolus climbs between his legs, easily manhandling him into place. Ignis’ knees are thrown over Gladiolus’ thighs, arms still bent back to clutch the blankets. Ignis notes that Gladiolus is still fully dressed, except for the fly of his pants being open, his cock jutting out and wrapped in latex. Staring at it helps Ignis’ semi-erection fill, but then as Gladiolus presses his tip against Ignis’ hole, Ignis trails his gaze up to the ceiling. 

Prompto’s standing beside the bed now. He’s leaning over it, snapping another picture as Gladiolus pushes inside. Ignis’ breath cuts off, his chest arching up and his body tensing—he clenches down around Gladiolus’ enormous cock and whines through a shaken groan. Gladiolus’ hands move to his waist, smoothing over the small area and lightly thumbing Ignis’ stomach. Ignis bites his lip as Gladiolus pushes inside one bit at a time. 

Ignis tries not to be loud. He doesn’t know what Noctis wants in that regard, but he has his own dignity, and he tries not to moan helplessly every time he’s filled with cock. He likes being stretched open when he knows that’s what’s in him, and he loves how _warm_ it is, how hot Gladiolus’ body is against his ass. Gladiolus keeps switching it up, filling him at different angles, then finally bottoming out and grinding deep inside. Ignis tosses his head back and bites back a groan. 

“Yeah, you like that?” Gladiolus asks, voice an almost obnoxious snicker. Ignis ignores it, even when Gladiolus gives him a harsh thrust that drives him up the mattress. Ignis shoots one hand up to splay against the headboard, keeping himself from crashing into it. Gladiolus gives him another hard thrust and works into a fast, brutal rhythm, switching up the angle and pace but always hitting deep. Sometimes it catches that spot in Ignis that makes him see stars, and other times it torturously misses. Ignis beings trying to find it himself, squirming on Gladiolus’ dick and clenching where he can. Gladiolus pets his stomach and praises, “Yeah, like that... keep writhing around my cock...”

Ignis does. Gladiolus bears over him, leaning lower and hiking his knees up higher, fucking him deeper and always ruthless. Ignis shifts and whines and finds himself sweating, sticking to the blankets, his necklace conspicuously cold against his collarbone. He pants harder than he means to, but there’s no break to catch his breath—Gladiolus is merciless. Gladiolus fucks him hard and stares down at him like a starving man with a fresh meal. Even Gladiolus’ breath is getting short as he teases, “ _Fuck_ , you feel good... could pound your ripe ass all day... hell, how about _I_ pay _you_ to come back to my place and warm my cock all night...”

Ignis rolls his head back to Noctis, feeling lightheaded and helpless. Noctis is _staring_ at him, slumped back in the chair and heavy-lidded, flushed cheeks and tented pants. Noctis isn’t touching himself, which gives Ignis a strange tinge of disappointment—he’d wanted to make Noctis come. Gladiolus stabs into Ignis hard enough to make him wince and teases, “Looking for more cock, huh? I _knew_ you were a dirty freak deep down—just needed a good fucking to make you realize what you’re best at...” Gladiolus rumbles on, but Ignis starts tuning out the dirty talk. He isn’t supposed to forge a connection with Gladiolus—that was in the rules. Noctis remains silently watching Ignis for a little longer.

Then he cuts Gladiolus off and asks, still looking only at Ignis, “How does he feel?”

“Fucking _good_ ,” Gladiolus groans. He seems to be fucking Ignis on autopilot, never stopping or slowing, never becoming any easier. Ignis is sweating hard and can see Gladiolus’ shirt gluing to his abs from the same problem. “His body’s so _soft_ ; he’s got the walls of an angel... and _hot_ ; I’m boiling up in here... and— _fuck_ —he keeps clenching up like that...”

Ignis doesn’t mean to. His pulse is hammering away now, his body overheated, even though he’s naked in a room with three fully dressed men. Gladiolus is leaning over him but not quite _touching_ him, other than where their bodies are connected at the crotch. Ignis finds his arms lifting on their own. He wraps them around Gladiolus but doesn’t fully tug Gladiolus against him—he needs room to breathe. His eyes are still for Noctis only. He wonders what Noctis wants—if Noctis wants him to think only of his prince, to imagine getting ploughed into the mattress by the royal cock. He gives up on trying to hold back his noises and begins to raggedly moan and gasp as Gladiolus drives into him. 

Noctis interjects again, “Make him feel good. Make him come.” That’s when Gladiolus wraps his sweaty palm around Ignis’ shaft. Ignis hadn’t dared to touch himself. Now he tries to weakly buck into Gladiolus’ hand as he’s fucked and stroked, the pleasure pooling in his groin.

He arches up and cries out when he comes. There’s no name on his tongue, but _Noctis_ is in his mind. He’s dimly aware of the absurdly handsome man overtop of him, and he digs his fingers into Gladiolus’ back as he bursts in Gladiolus’ hand. Gladiolus keeps it trapped, not letting it spray, and Ignis can feel his own release drizzling down his erection. This is the part where he most wants to be _kissed_ , but he’s a good boy to the end and won’t cross that line with Gladiolus. Noctis is too far away. Prompto’s practically sitting on the side of the bed, capturing everything. 

Gladiolus keeps fucking Ignis, to the point where it becomes a little painful—Ignis’ cock flags in Gladiolus’ sweltering grip, and his ass grows sore. Then Gladiolus finally comes, roaring loudly and slamming it in. Ignis thinks he might have trouble walking after. But it’ll be worth it if Noctis enjoyed himself. 

For a few conspicuous minutes, Ignis and Gladiolus stay locked together, panting hard and slumping. Nobody says a word. Then Ignis tries to pull away and winces. It’s enough for Gladiolus to pick up on—he pulls out, which leaves Ignis open and leaking lube. 

Gladiolus is looking at him. He can feel it. But Ignis stares dizzily at the ceiling, lost in the afterglow. He only looks over when Noctis gets up.

Despite the painfully obvious erection, Noctis’ clothes are still on. He digs out his wallet and counts out bills for Gladiolus, who wordlessly accepts them. Then he tells Gladiolus, “Leave now.”

Gladiolus tosses out a, “Thanks,” but Ignis isn’t sure which of them it’s to. Gladiolus looks satisfied and fine with everything, which is all that matters. 

Noctis turns to Prompto and quietly repeats, “Thanks, Prom.”

Prompto, flushed, flustered, and lightly shaking, chirps, “I’ll send you the good shots later.”

“Send me all of them.”

“Okay.” Prompto looks happy too, but in a stunned sort of way, and he can’t seem to manage any words for Ignis. He follows after Gladiolus, closing the bedroom door behind him, and Noctis and Ignis are left alone.

Ignis doesn’t have the strength to move. Noctis wanders over to the bed and drops one hand to softly palm Ignis’ cheek. Ignis leans into the touch, then lifts his hand to place over it.

Noctis’ unreadable expression melts into a warm, adoring smile. Ignis’ whole being sings with pride, because _he_ put that there: he satisfied one of Noctis’ deepest fantasies. He’s served his prince well. 

Noctis asks, “May I join you?”

Ignis can only rasp, “ _Please_.”

So Noctis slowly strips away his clothes and joins Ignis on the bed, starting up round two.


End file.
